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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2022
Submitted to Contest #231
“There is a hole in his stomach, I think that is where the money goes.” Chico said to the other small boys kicking stones in the alley outside the dingy Public House. Like Chico, only 5, or 6 years old, the other boys nodded, sensing the truth. They had all known despair, watching their own fathers lose themselves, pouring golden, liquid drinks down their throats. Many of the boys had been sent by their mothers to the Public House to get their fathers to remember they had a family at all, to encourage them to return before all the mo...
Submitted to Contest #230
The rain rumbled against the glass in the hospital room.The spare, small room smelled of disinfectant and dust. The crisp white sheets shone bright against the yellow curtains and peeling trim. Sara Ann saw the concerned look of an elderly nurse, tilting her head at her as the door closed. She took off her rain soaked jacket, and looking around found a hook behind the door to hang it on, before turning to finally acknowledge the figure on the bed.A pale gaunt man, hair thinning and gray, lay still, only his arms uncovered by the sh...
Submitted to Contest #229
Having lost her own house, Mylee knew exactly what she wanted in this one, though being ten, she didn't quite have the words for it. She added a chimney for her fireplace, and then squeezed icing in hopeful, repeating swirls across the roof.Of course, kitchens and bathrooms were important, but for Mylee, the Hideout Closet, the Secret Attic door, and the Comfy Corner were absolute priorities. She needed places where she could escape and be alone. Staying at her Uncle’s apartment, crowded now with two families and a cat in just two ...
Submitted to Contest #228
“Tell me, how do you think I ended up here, in prison?” Lourdes leaned against the heavy metal door, muffled voices echoed from the hall outside; shouting, laughing and cursing. Lourdes wore a clean and pressed inmate uniform, her white tennis shoes glowed white. She pushed her thick framed glasses tight against her face with a knuckle. Gloria sat on the bunk, her attention on her wine red nails, picking invisible fluff off her bed, anything to not look at Lourdes. Her few possessions, still lay crumpled in a pile on...
Submitted to Contest #227
Christina wondered how long she should wait before she reported her husband missing. Two days seemed too soon, but a week too long. Who would take a whole week to notice their husband missing? She held her hot cocoa in both hands, sipping it slowly as she watched the gentle flakes drifting through the pine trees. The first cold snap of the season had come with several inches of snow, and it covered the ground in a white, soft blanket. She loved being alone in her kitchen, and had spent the morning rearranging her utensils, th...
Submitted to Contest #226
“Marcus, What if we host Thanksgiving at our house this year?” Marina asked, her voice soft. I squinted my eyes, looking for the catch, but my wife’s wide smile seemed to have good intentions, for once. Marina, my beautiful over-achieving wife, knew I couldn’t stand her family. After the disaster last year I never wanted to see them again. Hosting her family could only be a disaster. But, this dinner could give us a reason to work together, instead of drifting apart. Lately we barely speak, Marina blamed me for the cold drafts...
Submitted to Contest #225
**** themes of violence *****1681, Versaille, France.Maestro La Motta saw his dead father walking toward him through the arched alcove, and pure terror washed through him. Had his Father has come across the world to haunt him, to torment him for destroying his legacy? Workmen’s voices shouted in French and in German outside the open windows of the long hallway. When he heard the vibrant tones of his own language, Venetian, La Motta looked out to see his two apprentices, the only people he could still trust in this foreign city.&nbs...
Submitted to Contest #224
Ethan assumed he dreamt the jazz club and the beautiful woman, until he saw the revolver on the floor of the basement. He looked down at his hand, his knuckles scraped and raw, and smiled. It had all started because of the damn gray wall. Earlier that morning, he had stood at the edge of the basement, blinking the sleep away. Four hours only made it worse somehow, his body craved rest. The basement, cluttered with scraps of metal and wood, stank of damp mold, bringing back memories of high school...
Submitted to Contest #223
“This is your assignment, just get it done.” Jennifer, Assistant Editor of the City on The Hill newspaper kept her eyes glued to the computer monitor as she typed. “If I cared about these human interest stories- I would be working at, Santa Cruz Style Magazine, or High Times!” Rosie Bear, newly promoted Investigative Journalist, clenched her fists as her face turned red. “I’m going to be a real reporter, that’s why I’m here.” The stacked books and papers surrounding her in her Boss’ cramped office began closing in, making...
Submitted to Contest #219
****discussion of domestic abuse****The formica table stood tight on thin chrome legs in the small space under the window overlooking the 18th Arrondissement of Paris. The rain beat against the window, while the cold air leaking through battled the heat from the wall furnace. I paused in the middle of the kitchen, the spot where the two temperatures balanced out, before continuing to the table. My boy Amir, just six months old, began to cry and squirm in my arms reaching for his grandfather, Nasir.“No, stay with me Amir. Your Grand...
Submitted to Contest #218
-mention of alcoholism- Death poured out of the blue labeled whisky bottle. The fragrant peat smell of the tawny liquid triggered Oshea, his hand clenched as if grasping for a drink himself. The musky scent promised a release, the calming and letting go he had leaned on for so many years. His body wanted it, shoulders relaxed at the redolent tang, expecting it.No, he rubbed his hand over his bald head, he was on the job. Oshea looked around the small back room of the Oaks Card Club. A thick haze of cigarettes hung in...
Submitted to Contest #216
From the edge of her vision, Julie saw a flash of yellow, a blur of rocks. The little boy giggled as his feet slipped, splashing into the raging river. Loosened leaves and dirt caught in the current, flew like clouds before a storm, then gone.Julie yanked him up by his shirt, “Billy, watch yourself!” Her heart raced, pounding a drumbeat of what could have been. Just five years old, he laughed, kicked his feet, thinking he was indestructible. The rapids of the American river roared wild, white foam horses thrashing just below h...
Submitted to Contest #215
Almost 8:30 AM, it was just before court would begin when his dead client, Mr. Black showed up to talk.Benny knew the consequences for being late, so was short with him.“Why are you here now?” He spoke in a hushed tone to the apparition in front of him, glancing around as the Alameda County Court room began to fill up. It would ruin his reputation as the best Public Defender in the County if people thought he spoke to ghosts. Mr. Black’s gray suit, the one he used to always wear, appeared now to fit him well, his cuffs were no lon...
Shortlisted for Contest #213 ⭐️
Anand knew the snake wanted to eat him, even if his mother said it only ate the cats and dogs scurrying over the trash pile. Anand held up one open hand, and then a single finger on the other, examining the years of his life in nicked and dirty scars. His family was Dalit, the untouchables, only suited to garbage collection, or cleaning toilets, as anything they touched turned to trash. He wanted to get to two full hands, and then he could join the men picking up the trash in town and not battle against the snake for its ...
Submitted to Contest #212
warning: languageOf course in hindsight, she should not have told her boss to go to hell, but damn it felt good. Alicia kicked the door of her apartment open, slamming it into the wall before it rebounded against the cardboard box of detritus from her office desk. The box collapsed onto her, spilling the office supplies, pictures and files on to the floor of her tiny one room apartment. She kicked the logo’d coffee mug from her ex-company toward the kitchen, and left the rest, doing several quick Samba steps to avoid slipping on th...
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